Finding What's Worth Fighting For
by KhanyaTheBarbarian
Summary: A young troll rogue finds something while walking in recently Horde-occupied Ashenvale. The decision he makes will change his life forever. Rated T to be safe.
1. Orphan of War

_Chapter 1: Orphan of War_

**Author's Note: Hello, this is my first fanfiction. I've been looking for a way to practice my writing skills. I appreciate constructive criticism and advice**

A young troll rogue wandered through the dusky forest of Ashenvale. His coarse black hair was kept in a thick braid which rested on his shoulders. His dark eyes spoke of a bitter contempt for the events taking place around him. Garrosh (just thinking the name sickened the troll) had just wrested the area from the resident night elves. The rogue knew that such a flagrant act of aggression would inflame the Alliance more than ever, and that this rapid consumption of resources would not be necessary unless one was making plans for war. This seemed an all too likely prediction, judging by the mounds of Night Elf bodies scattered through the woods. Just as he was shaking his head at the thought, the troll heard a small, strange noise.

The sound was unidentifiable at first. It was a small, musical gurgle, more beautiful than birdsong. Its beauty is what stood out in the middle of this rampant destruction. The moment the troll identified the noise, a cold, dreading feeling spread through his chest as he prayed to the Loa that he was mistaken. He walked toward the direction of the sound, and saw a Night Elf woman in simple dress lying broken and lifeless on the ground. Her fate was clearly the work of the Kor'Kron, as few else were near who could've enacted such brutality on another living creature. The troll then turned his head to the source of the sound. There were two small ferns at the base of a large tree, which the rogue approached. His trembling, three fingered hands parted the fronds to reveal, hidden there, an infant with glowing white eyes, and dark blue hair just starting to grow on its head. There was a small note tucked into the basket where the baby was nestled, and the rogue was suddenly grateful for his language lessons.

_To the one finds this note,_

_ The Horde aggression in Ashenvale has increased of late. I have decided to take my daughter, Ladoreith, and leave the area. If you are reading this, it means I didn't make it. I am the only family my little girl has left, and I will not have her in an orphanage. If my daughter still lives, please, keep her safe._

The troll knew that the decision he made at this moment would change his life forever. On the one hand, he was holding a child of an enemy race, and could be charged with treason for aiding her. However, Ladoreith was just that, a child. So, the rogue decided not to consider what the "Warchief" would tell him to do, but what Vol'jin would tell him to do. So the troll removed his cloak, and gently wrapping the baby in it, whispered, "Hello, Ladoreith. My name is Halkek, and we are going to find a place where you can be safe".

And so began the journey of an unlikely father for an orphan of war.


	2. Out of Place

_Chapter 2: Out of Place_

**Author's note: I will be moving back into school soon. Expect some delay between chapters, but I will try to be diligent about it.**

Halkek and Ladoreith had found their way to the town of Booty Bay in Stranglethorn Vale. It may not have been the most favorable place in which to live, but nobody really seemed to ask questions. They could have settled in Rachet, but that was far too close to Orgrimmar for comfort. At the moment, the troll was dozing in his favorite rocking chair. Streaks of snowy white had appeared in his black hair, which hung loose down to his waist. A brown leather patch rested over his right eye, as a souvenir from a rather heated bar fight. Just as he started snoring softly, Halkek felt a gentle tap on his knee.

"Papa?" intoned a soft, clear voice. Halkek snorted awake, looking down at the small elf-child at his feet.

"Yes, my dearest one?" replied the troll. Ladoreith seemed like she was holding a question in that was so large it might cause her to burst open. She was absolutely trembling with the effort of holding it back.

Finally, the girl raised a hand and touched one of the long, mammoth like tusks that protruded from her father's mouth and asked, "When are mine going to grow in?" Halkek let out a heavy sigh and put his hand gently over Ladoreith's. He had been dreading this day for a while now. Ladoreith was growing ever more inquisitive, and she was bound to notice the physical differences sooner or later. Whether it had been why she could see in the dark but he couldn't, why she had ten fingers and he had six, or why he had tusks and she didn't. Better now than later, he supposed.

"Only trolls got tusks like mine, darling", he said.

"But I am a troll!" replied Ladoreith, clearly growing upset.

"No, little one, you be a Night Elf"

This caused Ladoreith to pause for a moment. After looking down at her feet in thought, she asked, "Was my mommy a Night Elf too?"

"Yes."

"What happened to her?"

Halkek had always avoided this sensitive topic. He decided that he would leave out some of the more graphic details until Ladoreith was of the appropriate age to hear them. "Your mother passed away when you was just a baby. She was da only blood family dat ya had, and somebody needed ta keep you safe", he said.

Ladoreith seemed to be looking for something to say. It was as if it was a thought too big for one so small to put into words. After a minute or two of this obvious effort on her part, the girl let out a long, loud yawn. Looking at the time, Halkek realized it was just past noon. Gently putting his hands on her waist, he picked Ladoreith up and rested her on his shoulder. Halkek said lovingly, "I think it's time for ya nap, little girl". Ladoreith made some half-hearted protest, before letting her eyes close as her father carried her to her room.

After Ladoreith had been napping for some time, Halkek set about making an evening meal. He rubbed two fish fillets with some herbs that were hanging in the kitchen. After he set the meat to roasting, he began frying some squash in light oil and salt. Once the food was done, he set the table, remembering once again that he needed to have that wobbly leg fixed. Halkek stretched his aching back and went to Ladoreith's room to wake her.

Knocking gently on the door frame, he called, "Ladoreith, dinner time". Hearing no reply, he looked into the room. The sight that greeted him caused his heart to drop into his stomach. Ladoreith was lying on her bed, her face flushed, sweat appearing on her face, despite the coolness inside the house. She let out a small, wet sounding cough just as Halkek rushed to her bedside. "Baby, talk to me", he implored.

Ladoreith opened her eyes slightly and asked, "Papa, why is it so hot?" At this Halkek laid a hand on her burning forehead. He ran to the kitchen, soaking a cloth in cool water. He went back to Ladoreith's room, and began to gently wipe her face with the rag. As he did this, he sang softly to her. The low, gravelly voice in which he sang the Zandali lullaby would be considered beautiful by few. However, in his voice and in the words of the song were contained all the love that a father possesses. And that is where the song's beauty came from. After Ladoreith's breathing steadied a bit, Halkek put on his cloak, and though he dreaded her being alone, left to find a healer.

Halkek returned to the house, followed by a female Tauren druid. "Where is the little one?" she asked.

Halkek pointed to the smaller bedroom and said nervously, "I got to tell ya, we may not be like da other families you've visited". The Tauren woman simply raised one eyebrow and entered the bedroom. Upon seeing just what Halkek meant, the druid inhaled slightly, but said nothing. Halkek stood at the back of the room, chewing his fingernails, while the healer went to work. She held one large, furry hand over Ladoreith's forehead, and a green light emanated from her palm. The light spread over the elf-child's body, and some of the redness seemed to leave her face.

"I've taken the worst of the sickness away," said the Tauren, straightening and pulling a bottle from her pack, "She'll still be feeling under the weather, but give her a little of this in the morning and before bed and she will recover".

"What was wrong wit her?" asked Halkek.

"Night Elves are not native to a jungle environment. She'll acclimate eventually".

"I can't tank you enough," said the troll, taking a deep breath, "And I know you probably be wondering…"

"I am here as a healer, nothing more", the woman cut him off. As she reached the door to the house, the druid looked over her shoulder and said, "I have seen much stranger things in my time living here. My only worry is that she will feel out of place as she gets older".

After the door closed, Halkek pinched the bridge of his pointed nose and let out a tired sigh. Then, he went to sit by Ladoreith's bedside, knowing that he couldn't sleep if he tried.

**Author's note: There will be another time jump in the next chapter. I really want to focus on the trials Ladoreith faces as a young woman. However, this scene from her childhood will play an important role later.**


	3. An Unusual Friendship

_Chapter 3: An Unusual Friendship_

It was late afternoon, and Ladoreith was walking down to the docks of Booty Bay to fish. Her father had developed a limp in his age, and had trouble navigating the multiple layers of the city. So, it was up to the elf girl to keep the pantry stocked. When she got to the docks, Ladoreith got out her fishing pole, which was basically a large branch with line tied on the end, and a small container of night crawlers. She attached a fairly large worm to her hook and began the repetitive task.

After a few minutes, a young goblin walked up next to Ladoreith. He had long black hair that was kept in a ponytail, and he looked as if he had just begun training as a warlock. The goblin pulled out a very large and elaborate fishing pole. It was covered in gears and gauges, none of which had an obvious purpose, and it looked to be gas powered. The goblin smiled smugly at Ladoreith, before flipping a small lever on his contraption, causing the line and hook to shoot into the water. Ladoreith simply nodded back, and continued fishing.

A good while passed with the two sitting in silence, as Ladoreith felt a tug on her line. She reeled it back, pulling a medium-sized, healthy looking fish out of the water. The goblin looked at the fish, and then back at Ladoreith, with a confused look on his face. The girl added another worm to her hook and cast it back out in the water. About a half hour passed, and Ladoreith had caught two more large fish, one that was over half as big as the goblin next to her. The goblin had caught one small, sick-looking fish, but as he took it off of his hook to look at it, it wriggled out of his hands, hit him on the nose, and landed back in the water.

Ladoreith re-baited her hook and, seeing the goblin's dismay, set the container down between them, sliding it slightly in his direction. The goblin, upon seeing this signal, carefully picked a worm out of the container, eyeing it with slight distaste. He baited his hook in the manner he had seen Ladoreith do so, and cast it into the water. After about ten minutes, there was a tug on his line. So excited he could barely contain it, the goblin reeled his line back in. A fish that was about three feet long and exceptionally fat flopped onto the dock. It seemed as though this fish's life had been devoted to the sole purpose of eating himself silly.

Seeing this, Ladoreith collected her fishing supplies and catch, and prepared to go home. As she began to walk away, the goblin called, "Hey lady, wait a minute!" The elf turned and raised an eyebrow at the goblin inquisitively. "What's your name?" he asked.

"Ladoreith," she replied.

"The name's Lawrence. Thanks for the fishing bait."

Ladoreith inclined her head politely, and set off towards home.

* * *

Ladoreith walked through the door of the rickety house. Halkek sat in his rocking chair, squinting at his leatherwork. Without looking up, he said, "Mah knee's bothering me. I think it might rain tonight".

"It didn't look like it earlier," Ladoreith replied, "But your knee is usually right".

"Ya catch anything?" he asked. Ladoreith held up the three fish she caught that day. Halkek nodded, and the two began preparing dinner. Once the table was set, the two sat down and began to enjoy their meal.

Ladoreith shifted uncomfortably in her seat, as if wishing to broach a delicate topic. Halkek noticed, but didn't say anything, knowing that the young woman would decide to speak on her own time. "Papa?" she asked.

"Yes, little one?"

Ladoreith laughed, saying, "Papa, I'm 23."

"Yes, but you'll always be little to me. What did you want to ask?"

"Don't you think it's about time I start training?"

Halkek let out a heavy sigh. He knew this day would come eventually. It didn't stop him from hoping it wouldn't, though. He of all people could understand the desire for adventure. He looked at Ladoreith and said, "You understand why I be hesitant in this case."

"I do," she replied.

"You understand dat you couldn't allow da knowledge of our relationship to get out."

"Yes."

"And dat it would be best for you to work with neutral parties only."

"I've thought about this, father."

Halkek shook his head in frustration. "I don't really tink you have," he said exasperatedly. "Do you have any idea what could be done to you, me and everyone we know if anyone found out about our situation? Hopefully we would _only_ be killed. What do you even want to train as?"

Ladoreith looked at her father, her jaw tight and said through her teeth, "A warrior. And I have thought about the consequences. I just don't want to spend da rest of mah life in Booty Bay."

Halkek leaned back in his chair and sighed again. "Calm down, Ladoreith. You only talk like me when yah angry. A warrior Huh? Dat sounds about right," he said "A Tauren would probably make a better rouge den you. And yah hot headed enough." Ladoreith chuckled a little, but was still tense. Halkek pinched the bridge of his nose and said "I'll tink about it."

He pressed his hands against the table, trying slowly to get up. Ladoreith went to his side, and helped him to his bed. "Goodnight, dear one," he called after her.

She turned back with a sad smile and said, "Goodnight, papa."

* * *

A couple of days later, Ladoreith went back to the docks to fish. Her father brought in some money by selling dried fish to travelers along with his leatherwork, but it was up to her to re-stock his supply. She sat down for some quiet reflection, when she heard a loud, high-pitched, goblin voice coming her way. Lawrence was answered by someone with a low, gravelly voice. Ladoreith looked over her shoulder to see the goblin followed by an orc hunter. At first, she wondered why he hadn't brought his own fishing equipment. Then she noticed how heavily he leaned on his wolf companion, and the red blindfold covering his eyes. The orc was blind.

When Lawrence saw her, he nudged his companion. "Hey Duruk," he said, "It's Ladoreith, the one I told you about."

"The elf?" asked the orc.

"Yeah, that's her. How you doin, miss?"

"Alright," Ladoreith replied. She smirked at him and said, "I see you have a new fishing pole."

Lawrence looked at the simple bamboo pole in his hand and laughed nervously. "I suppose I did… May we join you?" he asked.

"If you'd like," Ladoreith replied. Lawrence sat down to her left, and Duruk sat to her right. The three sat quietly for a while. As Ladoreith fished, she noticed that the orc tilted his head at even the smallest sounds, trying to make out his surroundings. After a while the massive orc leaned in close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. He said quietly, in his low voice, "Just because I'm blind doesn't mean I can't tell that you're staring."

Ladoreith muttered a quiet apology, her face flushing. After a while longer of quiet fishing, she and Lawrence had each caught some sizeable fish. As the elf was packing her supplies and catch, Lawrence asked her, "You wanna head to the tavern and grab a drink with us before you head home?" Duruk said nothing, but stood with his face turned toward the setting sun.

Ladoreith looked in the direction of her house in contemplation. _I won't be out that long_, she thought to herself, _What harm could it do?_ "Fine, but just a quick one."

**Hey guys, I've been so busy at school that I've lost track of this story. College applications are hell. I'm hoping to keep this updated better in the future.**


	4. The Tavern

_Chapter 4: The Tavern_

Ladoreith sat in the Salty Sailor Tavern with Lawrence and Duruk. She sipped at her flask of port, while listening to Lawrence babble endlessly, without really paying attention. Every now and then she'd nod politely, or throw in an "Oh how fascinating." But engineering never held much interest for her, and that seemed to be all he wanted to talk about. However, he had mentioned that he was in Booty Bay with Duruk for a rest in between their travels.

For the most part, the orc hunter sat in silence, drinking from a skin of water. After a while, he turned in Ladoreith's direction and said, "You have a strange accent for a Night Elf. Where are you from?"

Ladoreith took a large gulp of port, nervous at the tone of his questioning. "Oh, I've lived here since I was little," she said, trying to sound casual. Lawrence looked suddenly disinterested at the direction the conversation was going. Duruk shook his head and muttered something, but his head suddenly shot up.

Lawrence noticed this and asked, "What's the trouble?"

Duruk, leaning into the center of the table, said, "The two Stormwind Marines across the room – no, don't look – are wondering why a 'good looking Night Elf is drinking with a couple of Hordies.' We could be in for a fight."

"Shit," said Ladoreith, as she heard the sound of chairs scraping across the room. "Act casual." She heard the heavy, plate-clad footsteps that announced the presence of the marines.

"Excuse me, ma'am," said an inebriated voice, "Are these two botherin' you? …hic!"

Ladoreith turned to see a very tall, well-muscled human man. There was another beside him, who was a little more slight, but still threatening. The young woman flashed the most innocent smile she could muster and said "Oh no, not at all. We were just discussing our favorite fighters in the Gurubashi Arena."

The taller man put on a smile of false civility and said, "Sounds like a good time. But, you know, where I come from, girls like you don't fraternize with _their kind_."

Ladoreith saw the foul look he gave Lawrence and Duruk. "I understand that," she said nodding slowly, "But quite frankly, I don't give a fuck what you do and don't approve of."

The entire tavern grew silent. Ladoreith heard Lawrence inhale sharply behind her. Both marines were growing red in the face, and stumbling for words. Ladoreith heard a low rumbling sound from behind her, and she realized that Duruk was chuckling. She turned around, and the orc threw his head back in a cackling laugh. "What are you laughing at, mongrel?" asked the marine. Duruk calmed down, but said nothing.

"I'll give you something to laugh at," the man said, drawing his sword. Ladoreith stood up from her chair, and gave the man a good punch in the face. Not expecting the blow, he reeled back, giving Lawrence and Duruk enough time to assume battle stances. The smaller marine backhanded Ladoreith, his plate gauntlet opening a gash in the side of her face. Lawrence fired a shadowbolt at the larger man, hitting him in the chest. Then, Duruk was upon him, grappling with him on the tavern floor.

Ladoreith pulled one of her father's daggers from her belt and swiped at the smaller man, as he dodged. It was at this moment that one of the bruisers came into the tavern. "Alright, alright. That's _enough,_" he said. He came between Ladoreith and the smaller marine. Turning to the innkeeper, he asked, "Who started this altercation here?"

The innkeeper pointed at the large marine and said "This one here drew his sword at the orc. The elf punched him and everyone else joined in after that."

"Okay," said the bruiser. He gestured at the marines and said, "Boys, restrain 'em." A group of uniformed goblins handcuffed the two men and led them out of the tavern. The bruiser then turned to Ladoreith and gave her a stern look.

"How ya doing, Louis?" asked the elf, with a grin on her face.

Louis leaned toward her and hissed, "You'd better run home to your pop before I throw _you_ in jail." Ladoreith nodded and gathered her things. As she left the tavern, Lawrence called after her.

"Will we be seeing you again?"

Ladoreith shrugged at him, and walked out the door.

* * *

Ladoreith stumbled into the door of her home. She felt lightheaded from the alcohol and the blood she had lost. She laid her catch from the day on the kitchen table and sat down heavily. She heard the limping footsteps of her father coming into the room. "Where da hell have you been?" he asked angrily. The wound on her face gave him his answer. "Oh no. Not another fight," he said in exasperation.

"At least I didn't start it this time," said Ladoreith. Halkek gave her a look that could have killed a kodo on the spot, and set to cleaning her wound.

"It's not as bad as it looks, but I'll still need to stitch it up," he said. He picked a needle and suture out of his first aid kit, and began to mend the wound. He took a deep, sad breath and said "I'm not always gonna be here ta patch ya up, ya know."

"Papa, why are you talking like that?"

"I've been thinking about what you said about training. You need to learn to take care of yourself, and I think I might have found someone who would be willing to teach you."

Ladoreith looked up in anticipation. An almost unintelligible stream of questions streamed from her mouth. Halkek held up one hand to silence her and said, "I'll be taking you to see him two days from now. He might decide to teach you, he might not. Don't get your hopes up too much."

Ladoreith nodded, and kept quiet. "Now, go to bed child," said Halkek, "I'll see you in the morning."

"See you in the morning, papa."

* * *

Halkek and Ladoreith stood outside of a small hut in the middle of the Stranglethorn Jungle. There were a few holes in the roof, and there was a small yard to the side containing three dilapidated training dummies. The place looked as if it was abandoned, and Ladoreith looked at her father in apprehension.

"Don' be shy," he said, "You're the one who wants to be trained. You go knock."

Ladoreith sighed shakily, and approached the door, which seemed ready to fall off its hinges. She looked back at Halkek, and she could tell that he was trying to contain his nervousness. Taking a deep breath, she knocked firmly on the door. There was a scuffling sound coming from inside, and a deep voice grumbled "On my way."

The door opened suddenly, and in it stood a very tall and broad man, with grey hair pulled back into a ponytail. It was clear that he had just woken up, and the smell of liquor emanated from him. He looked Ladoreith up and down and asked, "Whaddaya want, kid?"

Taken aback by his tone, the elf pointed back toward Halkek and said, "I believe my father approached you about my training, sir." The man's eyes followed Ladoreith's gesture to rest on the old troll standing up the path. His grey eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"When you said she was adopted, this wasn't quite what I expected," he called out to Halkek.

Before Halkek could respond, Ladoreith quipped, "To be fair, you aren't quite what I expected either."

The man looked at Ladoreith for what seemed like a very long time. He observed her facial expression and body language, looking for any clue as to her character. After a while, he extended his hand and said, "The name's Maverston. And yours?"

The elf looked at the man's hand apprehensively before taking it and replying, "It's Ladoreith. Nice to meet you."

Maverston nodded and said, "Well, Ladoreith, I guess we better get started."

It had been three hours since Halkek and Ladoreith had arrived at Maverston's house. So far, things were not going well at all. They had tried one handed weapons, but Ladoreith lacked the finesse and subtlety to wield them. She was slightly better with two handed weapons, but she had difficulty with the largeness of them. Maverston, seeming exasperated kicked the outside wall of his house. The vibration caused some of the training weapons leaning against the wall to begin tipping over in Halkek's direction. Ladoreith, seeing this, ran over and pulled the troll away from the wall, and instinctively brought up her arm to shield herself from the wooden weapons.

After the last of the training weapons had clattered to the ground, Maverston approached Ladoreith. Stroking his stubbly chin, he asked, "You're very protective, aren't you?"

"I suppose," replied Ladoreith. But Maverston had stopped listening to her. The gears were working in his mind, and they weren't going to be stopped. He went over to the weapons rack and picked out a small buckler and a one handed sword. After he handed them to Ladoreith, he chose a two handed sword for himself.

Without warning, he lunged at Ladoreith. She brought up the shield in self-defense, and swung at him with the wooden weapon, catching his shoulder. "That's more like it!" said the old warrior. He lunged at her again, but Ladoreith dodged out of the way, sending him running past her. Then, she used her shield to deliver a blow to his back. Maverston faced her and held up his hand to end the sparring session.

"We've figured out where your strengths are, which is good," he said, "But I think that's enough for the first day. Come back twice a week to continue your progress."

"Thank you for the opportunity," said Ladoreith.

Maverston simply turned toward his ramshackle house and said, "See you later." Taking this cue, Ladoreith and Halkek got on their mounts and began to head toward home.


	5. Patching Up

_Chapter 5: Patching Up_

It had been an entire month since Ladoreith had started her training with Maverston. The old man said that she was progressing very nicely, and had a natural talent for tanking. It was nearing the time of Winter's Veil, not that one could tell in the tropical climate. Ladoreith was walking home after delivering leatherworking orders for Halkek. She turned her head to look at an incoming ship. She bumped into something large and warm in front of her.

She looked in front of her to see a familiar pair of broad, greenish-brown shoulders. Looking up into the face of Duruk, she stammered an apology. The orc put his hands on her lean shoulders and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Just a little winded," replied Ladoreith.

Duruk's wolf was sniffing in circles around their two pairs of feet. "Groma, down girl," the orc said firmly. She settled down by her master's heels, her grey fur shining in the sunlight. Shifting his weight uncomfortably, the orc said, "I never got to thank you for helping in that fight at the tavern."

"It's no problem. I honestly didn't expect you to stay in town this long."

"Lawrence left for business a while ago. I just needed a while to rest."

Ladoreith shook her head and chuckled. "I've been resting for far too long," she said.

"I used to feel the same way," said Duruk, "I guess too much of one or the other just isn't good for you."

"I suppose," replied Ladoreith. At this dry spot in the conversation, Ladoreith twiddled her thumbs, and Duruk shifted his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other. After a minute, Ladoreith indicated that she needed to go home. As she was walking away, Duruk called after her.

"Ladoreith, if you ever need anything, I live near the stables."

Ladoreith nodded. Realizing that Duruk couldn't see her she said, "Thank you. I'll let you know."

* * *

Maverston left his home early Tuesday mornings to shop for supplies in town. He was usually gone all day, stopping at the tavern after his shopping was done. Knowing this, Ladoreith arrived at the small house in the jungle just as the sun rose over the horizon. She tied Rowan, her horse, to a fence post and rolled up her sleeves. She pulled a ladder out of the cart he was pulling, along with bundles of dry thatch. Examining the three holes in the house's roof, one about two feet in diameter and the others half that, she determined that she would be done with her project before Maverston returned. Ladoreith set up her ladder against the side of the house, and climbed cautiously onto the roof. Most of the thatch was still in good condition, but the areas around the holes were rotten and needed to be removed. Climbing carefully on the roof, the elf cut away the ruined portions. To her dismay, she also found other portions of thatch that were about to fall through and needed to be removed. After she finished this first step, Ladoreith carried the thatch bundles and wire she had brought with her up to the roof.

* * *

She spent hours working in the hot sun. Her thin linen shirt was soaked in sweat. Finally, as the sun was getting ever closer to the western horizon, she was finished. She climbed down off the roof and left a note on the door reading _Happy Winter's Veil – From Ladoreith. _ She mounted her horse and began riding back to Booty Bay.

After riding a while, mainly relying on Rowan's natural instinct to find home, it became dark in the jungle. She could tell that she was close to the entrance to booty bay when she smelled the smoke of a campfire. Warily slowing her horse, Ladoreith listened intently. Two male voices drifted on the air. They were eerily familiar, but Ladoreith couldn't place them at first.

The deeper voice said, "Gods I'll be glad when this mission is over."

"If only we could find that Orc-loving Night Elf that got us kicked out of the city," the other replied.

"Too bad we don't have jurisdiction. We could have her in for treason."

Ladoreith's hands trembled and gripped her horse's reins tightly. Without thinking, she spurred Rowan's sides and sent him running to the entrance to the city before the marines could discover her. She didn't slow until she reached the large shark's jawbone and entered the tunnel to the port. Finding her way home, she shut Rowan into the stable and entered through the kitchen door. She sat down heavily with a brooding expression. Halkek looked up briefly from his leatherwork and back down again.

"Ya get dat roof fixed alright?" he asked in a cautious voice.

"Mm-hmm"

"Good. I'm sure the old drunk will appreciate it."

A few long minutes passed without Ladoreith moving an inch. She sat with her fingers laced together and her chin resting on her thumbs. Staring into the grain of the wooden table, trying to grasp at some hidden truth within its pattern, she barely breathed.

"Well girl," said Halkek, "you better tell me what's wrong before your joints lock up from disuse."

"Why should we have to live in fear?"

"You know very well why."

Ladoreith chuckled mirthlessly. "Because of a meaningless race war? One that I inherited but was never consulted on?"

"And what is one Night Elf warrior going to do about it?" Halkek asked angrily. "You're going to get yourself killed with that attitude."

Ladoreith sighed wearily and covered her eyes with one hand. "I'm just so tired, papa."

Halkek's face softened, and he kissed Ladoreith's forehead softly. "Go get some rest, child."

* * *

A figure in a velvet hooded cloak passed the booty bay stables early the next morning. Scanning the nearby houses, it paused at one. It was smaller than the others, and a large grey wolf could be seen dozing on the front step. The figure approached the door, petting the wolf with a pale slender hand, and rapped sharply on the door. Shuffling could be heard from inside the house, and in a few moments, the door opened.

Duruk stood in the doorway. He had clearly just woken up. His hair was in a tangled mess, and his clothes were wrinkled and creased. "May I help you?" he asked.

"It's Ladoreith," replied the figure, "May I come in?"

Duruk nodded and said, "Come sit down, quickly."

Ladoreith entered the small house and looked around. There wasn't much, save for two seats, a stove, some cabinets and shelves, and a dining table. A curtain covered a doorway which she assumed led to the bedroom. She walked over to the table and sat down. Duruk slowly followed her, feeling his way as he went. The orc sat down, groaning as he did. "What brings you here this morning?" he asked.

Ladoreith recounted the overheard conversation between the two marines. Duruk shook his head and said, "The man was so drunk that he probably wouldn't recognize you if he did see you."

"True," replied the elf, "But it brings up a larger question."

"And what is that?"

"What's the point of all this animosity? Granted, the first and second wars weren't that long ago, but it happened before you and I were born."

"Racial hatred is taught to children at a very young age, it's a difficult cycle to break."

"But not impossible," said Ladoreith in a cryptic tone.

Duruk leaned forward. He was so close that Ladoreith could feel the warmth of his breath. "An even better question," he said, "is why a Night Elf of all people would be concerned with such things."

Ladoreith took a deep breath. She was hesitant to explain her situation to someone she hadn't known for long. However, Duruk's quiet, gentle manner gave her the feeling that he could be confided in. "Let's just say… I'm adopted," she replied.

"Meaning?"

"My mother lived in Ashenvale with me. She died as a result of the Horde invasion, but my adoptive father found me and took me in."

"Wouldn't that give you all the more reason to harbor animosity towards my people?"

"Not necessarily."

The chair creaked wearily as Duruk leaned back into it. Shaking his head, he said, "Ladoreith, you don't really make much sense. What is your father's name, anyway?"

Ladoreith paused for a moment. This would be the telling part. "Halkek," she said firmly, without shame. Duruk's eyebrows shot up in shock. He stood, pressing down on the table with his hand as he did so. He walked to the counter and pulled a cup out of the cabinet. With a trembling hand, he poured water from a pitcher and took a long drink.

His voice rough, he said, "That is not an elfin name."

"Indeed it isn't."

Turning sharply, the orc asked, "Why should I believe you?"

In flawless Zandali, Ladoreith replied, "_What reason would I have to lie?_"

Duruk waved his hand dismissively. "You live in a port town," he said, "It only makes sense that you'd know a few languages."

"But _why _would I live here, of all places? Most people who make permanent residence in Booty Bay have a thing or two to hide."

"Why would you tell me, then?"

Ladoreith inhaled sharply through her nose. "Because I'm tired of hiding," she said tearfully, "I love my father more than anything, and he's always been there. He deserves a life so much better than this one. He never says so, but I know he misses being with his people. If he ever went back, I couldn't ever see him again, or one of us would be killed."

Ladoreith looked down at her hands in dismay. The house was silent, save for the sound of the waves coming from outside. She didn't know why she had come here, of all places. _An act of desperation if ever there was one, _she thought. But then, she felt a warm hand on her shoulder. "I believe you," Duruk said softly, "Your fiery spirit isn't going to be enough to cause serious change, though. "We'd need supporters, planning, and supplies. Among other things."

"Well then," said Ladoreith, "Let's get started."


End file.
